The taxi is one of the most iconic symbols associated with our fine city, but if you ask me, that’s an association we should be fighting.

Most of us don’t have a car, which means if we can’t walk or take the subway somewhere, we’re usually going to have to rely on catching a taxi. Which means you have to catch one — no easy feat, as anyone who’s ever tried to catch one at rush hour, on a weekend night or when it’s raining can tell you. Pretty much, if you really need a cab, it’s going to be next to impossible to get one.

But when you do manage to flag down one of the yellow or green monstrosities, then you have to deal with actually sitting in one. We expect our subways to be grimy and gross. Millions of people ride them a month. But a cab? A cabin of a taxi doesn’t need to be new-car fresh, but it should at least be a place that you can sit for the duration of your ride without wanting to vomit.

Who hasn’t had a driver pull up to them, said they needed to get to Brooklyn, Queens or the Bronx, only to have the driver spit out, “Fat chance!” before speeding off?

Then there’s the driver. Before delving into this, let me just say, most taxi drivers are swell men and women, but occasionally you get that one who just wants to talk and talk. It’s always this person who asks you a question you don’t want anyone asking you. “How many kids do you have?” You know what? That’s my own business. And when I say, “None,” definitely don’t follow it up with, “Well, it’s not too late too start.”

But chatty cab drivers aren’t the worst kind of driver — the ones who really get me are the ones who don’t know how to get where they’re going. Yeah, New York has thousands of addresses, but, like, you spend all day driving the streets of this city. It shouldn’t be that hard to get where your fare needs you to go. Plus, some of them will fight you about the intersection you live on. They may not think it exists, but if you live there, chances are it does.

And all of this doesn’t even take into the account the main problem for those who live outside Manhattan: trying to get a driver who will actually drive you to your destination. Who hasn’t had a driver pull up to them, said they needed to get to Brooklyn, Queens or the Bronx, only to have the driver spit out, “Fat chance!” before speeding off?

I mean, what more is there to say? Taxis almost make the subway seem like an attractive mode of transportation.